


Wow I already had another fic titled "wings" whoops

by pyropinkfish



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: M/M, Wing Kink, mild shit, sorta fluff not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4383218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyropinkfish/pseuds/pyropinkfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lovely and sweet anon requested Malex wing kink fluff- I however, having literally not slept since 6pm and it is now 11:30 am, just finished watching the newest episodes of season two and am in battle fic mode. So whilst it's not exactly fluff, nor more detail of wing kink, it is something moderately acceptable. <br/>--<br/>“You’re awfully inquisitive about my wings.” Just because he was thankful, didn’t mean he didn’t have to tease Alex for being practically obsessed with his wings. </p><p>“It’s good to know what I’m supposed to be fighting.” Alex responded in a short curt, sweet and to the point. </p><p>“I was unaware you planned to defeat my brother’s army with a good preening session.” The brunet sassed, enjoying the pointed look Alex gave when he wasn’t impressed with whatever sarcastic comment that spurred itself from Michael’s pouted lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wow I already had another fic titled "wings" whoops

**Author's Note:**

> Really sorry it's not as cute, I'm working back into my Dominion fanfic writing setting and require a good hard cry about my sweet sons before I can truly pump out something worth calling a filled request. RIP   
> my tumbles is pyrogavinofree because sadly I changed my awesome Dominion related url into RTAH garbage, but worry not, I will still take those Dominion requests and I will write something with them. And I will cry. A lot.

“They’re softer than I expected. The way you fly around… the way you fight with them; I would have guessed they were always like knives.” Rough fingers deftly flexed over broken feathers, twisting and pulling on loose quills. The discard pile of damaged and ugly feathers grew with each passing minute that Alex worked over the large black wings of his mentor. He sat at the edge of Michael’s bed, feathers falling to the floor with the archangel’s head tilted back on his lap, wings draping against his knees whilst he plucked away at the tops of the glorious appendages. 

“It would be quite painful to fold them away if they were guarded every second.” Michael tsked, keeping his lips pursed. He craned his head to the side to make it easier on himself to look at the man he was speaking to. Said man, Alex, twisted his brow and weighed the words on their evident truth. Alex had to remember that he did not have a heavy set of wings strapped to his back, usually concealed under skin and bone. He shuddered at the thought of having sharp knives inside his back for a majority of his life. It would only be logical that the feathers would be soft and pliant when not being used for a weapon. 

“Are they all razored when you fly too?” Alex pressed on a tender spot, making Michael wince, eyes squeezing shut before Alex readjusted his tactic on grooming. It was still a learning process on preening, hell, only recently did Michael even let Alex start cleaning his wings for him. It was a normally private or personal thing for the archangel. A rite reserved for his twin, long forgotten in the twenty something years of war. 

“Only when I want them to be.” The archangel answered all questions regarding his wings honestly, in return Alex got the spots where honestly, as much as Michael could try, spots he could not reach. Besides, it was nice; warm hands working the sore spots, pulling the feathers, straightening them to look pretty once again just in case Father really was keeping a watchful eye on him… Protecting a city full of people made personal hygiene very hard to attend to when it accounted for both a humanoid body and angel attributes. Washing blood out of your feathers wasn’t easy, even with a large tub big enough for an orgy of six. 

Now that Alex took it upon himself to tidy his wings, to spend hours of valuable training time to rake his fingers in feathers and brush them down with oils and powder, Michael can honestly say he has never felt as good in twenty years. 

“You’re awfully inquisitive about my wings.” Just because he was thankful, didn’t mean he didn’t have to tease Alex for being practically obsessed with his wings. 

“It’s good to know what I’m supposed to be fighting.” Alex responded in a short curt, sweet and to the point. 

“I was unaware you planned to defeat my brother’s army with a good preening session.” The brunet sassed, enjoying the pointed look Alex gave when he wasn’t impressed with whatever sarcastic comment that spurred itself from Michael’s pouted lips. As a punishment, Alex ever so rudely tugged on a patch of intact feathers, making Michael inhale sharply, teeth making a hissing sound at the unexpected mild pain. 

“You better be nice to the guy who has a good access to make a bald spot on your wings.” Alex taunted back, smoothing his palm over the patch of ruffled feathers. Michael closed his eyes and denied the man any verbal response. It warranted a chuckle from him, showing off the fact Alex viewed this time as less than the personal, private, and exclusive moment it really was for the archangel. 

“I’ll consider it if this particular person was truly foolish enough to proceed with such an action and not worry for the sake of his own being.” Michael replied, quirking a small grin. Alex might not have understood the value of this moment, how preening affected any creature with wings, especially one who could put stronger emotions to it, but that was fine. At least there was moments to be had.


End file.
